


Compatriots

by storiesfortravellers



Category: Tyrant (TV)
Genre: Banter, M/M, Political tension, Sexual Tension, flirtation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 02:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2174280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry and John have a moment over drinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compatriots

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Соотечественники](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2547932) by [Heidel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heidel/pseuds/Heidel)



> Possibly politically controversial statements (much like those made in canon); please don't read if you don't like.

It started over whiskey, like most bad ideas do. Molly had been in the States for months, John’s wife even longer. 

“I know why you believe in me,” Barry said, leaning over close into John’s space. The near-empty bottle sat on the table in front of their sofa, and Barry was swaying a little from the drink.

“You’re a great man,” John said without thinking. He snorted back a laugh then; he did believe that Barry was a great man, but the diplomat in him said it automatically.

Barry smirked, then put his arms, strong fingers with soft skin, around the back of John’s neck. “You spend your life trying to convince countries like mine that we should try desperately to be like you. And here I am, America and Abbudin, all in one. I’m your imperialistic wet dream, right?” Barry didn’t seem angry as he said it. He just seemed sad. 

He seemed like a man who was about to take the world on his shoulders. He seemed like a man who felt completely alone even when he was with the only person he could be honest with.

Not for the first time, John thought that it was a shame that progress came at the cost of turning good men into damn wrecks.

John smiled. “I’m sorry, maybe I’ve had too much, but did you just say you’re my wet dream?” He gave Barry’s body a quick glance up and down, light blue shirt opened at the collar, muscular build underneath. Forearms bared by rolled up sleeves, pants tight around his thighs.

Barry laughed, let go of him. “It wouldn’t surprise me,” he teased, smart enough to know John was changing the subject but too drunk to care.

“You do have nice eyes,” John offered with a shrug. 

Barry let out a breath, almost like a laugh. He reached for his glass and took another sip. Then he raised an eyebrow at John. “Be careful what you wish for.”


End file.
